


A Martyr Defiled

by plutonianshores



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Deepthroating, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Unaroused Victim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 03:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/pseuds/plutonianshores
Summary: Enjolras turns to an illicit source for guns and ammunition, but there's no honor amongst thieves, especially thieves with a taste for pretty young things.





	A Martyr Defiled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ancslove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancslove/gifts).



Enjolras shouldn’t have trusted this Montparnasse. No honor among thieves, he knew that, and no reason for him to be loyal to Les Amis’ cause. But they needed the guns and ammunition, and Enjolras had thought the tidy sum they’d given him would keep his lips locked. And if not, they’d all faced imprisonment many times before.

He hadn’t counted on there being worse things than imprisonment.

Montparnasse jumped him on his way home from a meeting, putting a knife to his throat before he could fight back. Enjolras recognized his voice as soon as he spoke.

“Don’t struggle, now. I’d hate to hurt you.”

“What do you want? I paid you everything you asked.”

Montparnasse laughed. “I’ve thought of something else I’d like, is the thing. You’ll come along quietly, and I won’t tell the gendarmes about your little arsenal.”

Enjolras slid his hand towards the pistol under his coat, stopping when Montparnasse pressed the knife more firmly against his throat. “You’d have to tell them who sold me that arsenal.”

“You’ve rather underestimated the stakes here, I think. Would you put your own safety before your friends’ lives?” Montparnasse must have felt the fight go out of him at those words, because he pulled the blade away from Enjolras’s throat. “If I let you go, you won’t try to run, will you?”

Enjolras shook his head, although it took every ounce of restraint he had not to grab for the knife and stab the bastard.

“Good.” Montparnasse linked his arm through Enjolras’s and set off down the street.

Enjolras had thought he knew the city, but Montparnasse led him down alleys he’d never seen before until he had no idea where they’d gone. The building they stopped at was dingy, and the door unlocked. Montparnasse led him up the stairs to a small room, with nothing but a bed in the corner.

“Will you tell me what you want with me now?” He hated to give Montparnasse power by asking, but he couldn’t keep silent.

“Take off your clothes.” Montparnasse smirked at the shock Enjolras knew was showing on his face. “I asked around about you, after you came looking for guns. You’ve promised yourself to the revolution, it seems.” He traced a thumb over Enjolras’s cheek. “What a shame to waste such a pretty face. I thought to myself, I could have fun with a man like that. Maybe I undercharged him for my services. Now,” he said, tone growing harsh, “take off your clothes.”

Enjolras obeyed. Everything in him screamed to fight, but he couldn’t put his friends at risk like that.

Montparnasse eyed him with undisguised pleasure when he dropped the last of his clothing to the floor and stood, shivering, against the wall.

“What a waste.” Montparnasse stalked towards him. “Such a beautiful body, and you’ve never let anyone see it. Well, we’ll put it to good use.”

“Just get this over with,” Enjolras snapped.

Montparnasse only laughed. “Oh, this isn’t going to be a five-minute fuck. We’re going to have fun.” He licked his lips, the look in his eyes making Enjolras sick. “I think I’ll have you on your knees first.”

Enjolras knelt, glaring up at Montparnasse. He undid his trousers, pulling his prick free—it was already hard. He brushed the head across Enjolras’s lips.

“Go on, then, open up.”

Enjolras did so, letting Montparnasse slide his prick into his mouth even as the taste filled his tongue. The head had barely passed his lips when he began to gag.

“Oh, don’t do that.” Montparnasse stroked a hand through his hair, the touch making him shudder. “You can do better. Wouldn’t want me to decide I’m sick of you and drop you off with the police, would you?”

Enjolras fought back his nausea and let his jaw go slack.

Montparnasse slid further into his mouth, then further yet, until his cock jabbed at the back of Enjolras’s throat. He couldn’t help but gag, but Montparnasse didn’t scold him this time, just kept stroking his hair.

“You can take it further, can’t you?”

Just the thought of ‘further’ made his heart race. Enjolras tried to mutter a protest through his mouthful, but Montparnasse grabbed the back of his head and forced him forward, until his cock was halfway down’ Enjolras’s throat.

He couldn’t breathe. All he could taste was Montparnasse and he couldn’t breathe and the man just kept thrusting, feeling like he was tearing Enjolras’s throat apart. He knew he shouldn’t, knew he ought to save his breath, but Enjolras tried to scream. It only made Montparnasse groan and thrust harder.

After the panic wore off, Enjolras managed to draw in a few staggered breaths through his nose, but it didn’t much help the ache in his lungs. He tried shutting his eyes, but that forced him to focus on the pain in his throat. Opening them only brought into focus the curl of Montparnasse’s pubic hair against his clean white shirt. He couldn’t look up, not with the way Montparnasse was dragging his head back and forth, but he would have liked Montparnasse to be able to see the hatred in his eyes.

Montparnasse pulled back. Enjolras dropped his hands to support himself as soon as Montparnasse released his grip on his head, gasping for breath and gagging.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Enjolras spat at him, noting with satisfaction that it hit his spotless white shirt.

Montparnasse slapped him. “Don’t be rude.” Then he tugged Enjolras up by the hair, throwing him on the bed. He rifled through the pile of Enjolras’s clothes, pulling out a cravat. Then he grabbed Enjolras’s wrists and bound them to the bedframe.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust you to behave on your own,” Montparnasse said, smirking.

The frame dug into his wrists, and he could already feel his fingers beginning to go numb. “Do what you will. I can’t stop you.”

Montparnasse stroked a hand over Enjolras’s cheek, which still stung from the blow. Then he leaned over to press his lips to Enjolras’s. Enjolras kept his own mouth pressed firmly shut at first, but Montparnasse was persistant, nipping and licking at Enjolras until he was forced to yield.

The wet way Montparnasse worked his tongue into Enjolras’s mouth disgusted him. Was this what it felt like, always? Or was he repulsed by the man rather than the act?

Montparnasse pulled back, running a thumb over Enjolras’s now-wet lips. “Was that your first?”

Enjolras spat at him again. “Fuck me or be done with it.”

“Well, if you’re going to ask so nicely...” Montparnasse sat up and tugged off his shirt, followed shortly after by his trousers. “Don’t expect this to be pleasant. You’ve used up every ounce of my patience.” He hoisted Enjolras’s legs over his shoulders, and lined his prick up with Enjolras’s ass.

Enjolras had braced himself for the pain, but Montparnasse forcing his way inside of him still felt like it was tearing him apart. He bit back a scream, not wanting to give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing how badly this hurt him.

“Damn, you’re tight.” Montparnasse gave an experimental thrust. “From what I’ve heard, you wouldn’t bend over for anyone. Waste of a fine ass.”

Enjolras shut his eyes and tried to keep his breathing steady. This would end sooner or later. The pain would pass. He wouldn’t scream, he wouldn’t--

Montparnasse gave a particularly brutal thrust, his thighs slapping against Enjolras’s ass. Enjolras screamed.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Montparnasse murmured. “Your cheeks all pink, and your lips so red. I could have you every day and never grow tired of you.”

Screaming tore at his already-sore throat, but Enjolras couldn’t stop. Montparnasse leaned forward and muffled his noises with another kiss.

“Shh, now,” he said, lips hovering over Enjolras’s own. “You’ll grow used to it soon enough.”

He did grow used to it, in a fashion. The raw jolts of pain faded away into a dull ache, punctuated by the occasional stab when Montparnasse changed angles—not painful enough that he could lose himself in it, not painful enough that he could ignore every other disgusting aspect of the assault, but enough pain that he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Montparnasse took pleasure in each of Enjolras’s stifled cries. He kissed Enjolras when he screamed, licked the tears from his face, ran delicate hands over his chest and his hips and his cock. Enjolras would have done anything to end it. He begged, although he was ashamed to do so.

Finally, finally, Montparnasse spent himself. Enjolras could have cried with relief when he pulled away. He waited for Montparnasse to untie him, but the man walked towards the door without a look backwards.

“Wait!” Enjolras hated himself for the quaver in his voice. “You’ve taken what you want. Can’t you let me go?”

Montparnasse stopped, striding back towards the bed. He leaned over to kiss Enjolras once more, almost chastely. “Perhaps later. I haven’t had my fill of you yet.”


End file.
